The Gift that Keeps on Giving
by PJ Zatken
Summary: Miracles, transformations, and a new sense of peace all happen on Christmas Eve - specifically during Dick Grayson's first Christmas Eve and Christmas at Wayne Manor.


**BATMAN AND ROBIN**

**THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING**

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note<strong>_

_In this fanfic, Bruce Wayne is Batman and young Dick Grayson is Robin._

_Happy Holidays, everyone. May the spirit of the Holiday Season warm your hearts and homes. May you enjoy reading this fic just as much as I enjoyed writing it!_

_**Warmest regards,**_

_**PJ Zatken**_

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><p>Since Dick Grayson was born, the two of us have watched over him.<p>

And now, more than ever, our eyes have never left Dick Grayson.

All this time, I kept a keen eye on the two of them since they first got together—the boy and this unknown man. I saw him stand behind the boy, eventually crouching behind the poor figure as the normally-happy boy cried his heart out that night.

I watched a few feet away from them, my eyes narrowing because of the outrage brought about by this tragedy. I saw how this man of money had taken off his coat and draped in on the boy's shoulders for warmth. I should feel rather touched with the scene, but something deep inside me boiled up. I saw Dick slowly rise from his feet and leave the scene with this high-ranking policeman named Jim Gordon.

A couple of hours later, Dick spent the first night alone in this world with this total stranger. We found out that the total stranger was this millionaire playboy and very-public figure in Gotham City, making my eyes narrow even further in disgust. My blood bubbled violently inside me, thinking that Dick was not in good hands.

Lo and behold, we found out that this millionaire playboy named Bruce Wayne was more than meets the eye. I figured that there was more substance in the man when I saw how he looked at Dick every now and then with fatherly affection—something that the man probably thought he never had inside him.

We also saw how Bruce Wayne's butler, this nice wise man named Alfred Pennyworth, looked after Dick and took care of him hand and foot.

Seeing that Dick was physically and financially in good hands after the tragedy, though, did not make me feel better. We further found out that Bruce Wayne was this masked vigilante called Batman, and Dick transformed into his sidekick named Robin. Not only was this man going to use the boy as a prop during his performance as Bruce Wayne, but he was also going to use the boy in his crusade for vengeance after his parents have been brutally gunned down.

For short, the boy would be tainted. He would be turned into a disciple with revenge rooted deep into his heart, his light gone forever all because of that night—all because of this man who now took the boy in for his own.

What would a millionaire playboy know about raising a young boy other than to have the hired help assume the responsibility? What would a man ridden with hate and revenge teach a child who suffered the same fate as he did? Would he have the boy walk into the same doomed path that he made for himself? How could a man who had lost his childhood be able to provide one to a boy who had lost everything in one evening?

Every time that I bit my lip or clenched my teeth and fist in anger and worry over the boy and his welfare, a gentle hand would always rest on my shoulder...its owner reminding me that all that I—_we_—could do was watch.

And watched we did...

The months passed. Those months were an eternity for us. We watched both of them, with me doing my best to keep an open mind. I did my hardest to withhold my judgments against Bruce Wayne. I begged Divine Providence to continue watching over the boy. I had to believe that His loving hand would continue to guide Dick Grayson.

These crucial months made us open our eyes—more specifically, my eyes. The man that I demonized, the man dressed as a bat to strike fear in the hearts of Gotham's criminals, was already a man of many good facets before Dick came into his life.

And contrary to what I feared, the light in Dick's heart shone even brighter. I can see it in his eyes and his smiles. That same self-belief, optimism, and conviction that he exuded every time he stepped out for his nightly death-defying performance as the young star of The Flying Graysons continued to burn in his heart. With this man and his guidance, he found his purpose and his calling.

Bruce and Dick…. He and the boy were comparable to coal, where the grueling tragedies and the passage of time hardened them into half-polished diamonds. Bruce Wayne was nearly polished before that circus tragedy, but he never showed his true colors and his brilliance as a human being until Dick Grayson came into his life.

At the same time, Dick Grayson's and Robin's time to turn into a brilliant diamond was hastened due to the rigid discipline required while training under Batman. The timeline was even further advanced due to how intensely he embraced the passions of what he believed to be his true calling—to help and protect the innocent.

Yet, unlike his mentor, Dick's light never wavered or changed. In fact, it shone more brightly than we remembered it. He was the light that shone against the diamond that the true Bruce Wayne and Batman really was. He made his mentor show his true vibrant colors...his brilliance as a crime-fighter...his ability to be gentle...his ability to be loved by a boy who saw, approached, and welcomed everything with such lighthearted innocence.

Dick Grayson, the boy that we worried about all this time, had this resilience that would never give in under the pressures brought about by this dark world that he was now in. He had been sharing this world with the man he embraced as his mentor, his partner, his guardian, and most especially his father. The boy now walked into a differently-lit stage, where his life was still at stake every night. Every night, he gave his all for what he believed was his calling. Every night, he went home after a long night of patrol with a smile on his face knowing that he had done right with the world.

We now see the three of them—Dick, Bruce, and Alfred—sitting in the posh living room where a giant and elegantly-decorated tree towered behind Dick. There were many presents there, most of them bearing Dick's name. Some of them came from Alfred. Some came from Bruce. One came from this pretty young girl named Barbara Gordon. Another came from an "uncle" named Clark Kent.

And some of the gifts came from Santa Claus, which brought a warm smile to our faces and respectively reminded us about the many things that we have learned months ago since Dick was orphaned and became Bruce Wayne's ward.

For now, though, we watched as the three enjoyed their first Christmas together as a family.

Dick was happy as he opened one gift after another, the boy never forgetting the child that he was in spite of the dark and dangerous life that now bonded him with Bruce Wayne and Batman. He giggled...those melodic sounds reaching my ears and seeping deep into my innermost being.

Every now and then, Dick hugged Bruce and then Alfred. He hummed carols and was the giddy and carefree little boy that he always was during Christmas, his favorite time of the year. It was a holiday that he favored even more than his own birthday. He once said years ago that he loved Christmas because it made people nicer, the memory associated with those words making me smile sadly and reminded me of what I—we—have lost.

The giggles... We heard them loud and clear every night. They filled our hearts and souls. They served as reminders of how complete we felt since Dick was born. And tonight, those giggles still rang and filled this vast house. It meant that the boy was happy, and would continue to be happy in spite of what happened months ago.

Tonight, I confirmed that Dick was indeed in good hands, for these two men and the friends that surrounded them gave Dick the family that he needed. This man gave him a home, a place of belonging, and a family. The boy would not want for anything as Divine Providence continued to guide him.

With Divine Providence's blessing, the moral compass instilled within the boy since the day he was born would be more finely tuned—thanks to these two men who Dick now embraced as his fathers. Someday, the boy will grow up to be the great man that he was destined to be—all while the light that burned brightly deep inside him like the brilliance of the sun would never fade away as he continued to touch and save so many lives.

I could definitely say this since Dick did that for me...for us. This moment was bittersweet. For now, we have to do something that we never wanted to do but Divine Providence had plans for the three of us and those plans required for us to be apart for now.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, the teardrops continuing to flow here and there. We have shed many tears over the months, but this time these were tears of joy...of relief...of longing...

"John, Love... It's time."

I looked over my shoulder, glancing towards the owner of that gentle, reassuring hand. I smiled at her, telling my wife Mary, "Not quite yet, Love. Could we...?"

Mary gave me the warmest and most heartfelt of smiles—something that the boy, my one and only son Dick, inherited from her. "Yes, of course, but only for a few minutes more."

"I miss Dickie, Mary."

"I do too, Love. I do, too," murmured my teary-eyed yet still-smiling Mary. "Dickie's in good hands now. He always has been from the day that he was born. He's not crying as much anymore after he'd lost us. We should let time heal him. The Good Lord will take care of him through Bruce and Alfred. All these months, you and I have seen how much they love him."

"I know. I'll just miss him, Love. We should be there for him."

"And we will, Love...but just not in the way that you and I have wanted and expected. The Good Lord has other plans for all of us."

I offered my hand for Mary to take, clasping it tightly as the two of us approached and crouched behind our son Dick.

Looking towards Bruce Wayne's and then Alfred's respective direction, I murmured, "Thank you both for loving my son. I will always be grateful. He has always been our light. My rock... The one to honor the family legacy... I learned how to be a man because of my son. I'm sure that he will do the same for you. Trust me…this boy will _always _have a way of doing that to you."

I then hear Mary whisper in Dick's ear, "We love you, Dickie, our little Robin…. Merry Christmas…. We're so proud of you. We will always be with you."

After Mary embraced Dick, I then joined in and hugged my wife and child. I closed my eyes and embraced them as tightly as I could, just as I did when I was still alive. "Mother and I love you and we will miss you. I love you with all my heart, Son. We're very proud of you. You're with good people. Love them. Be their constant light just as you've done for Mother and me. Be strong. Be happy. Stay true to who you are."

Minutes later, Mary and I stood up. We held hands, fingers interlacing, as we felt the warmth of that Light that gently showered from above.

The time that Divine Providence had allotted to watch over our boy and make peace with what happened to the three of us was now over. I guess that He sensed that Mary and I were now ready to rest.

I glanced over my one and only son—the one that Mary and I were now leaving behind. We did not want to say goodbye, but we had to. I know that Dick missed us, and that he always would.

Someday, Mary and I would be reunited with Dick. As much as we would miss our only child every minute of our existence, we would like for that time to come after he had lived a full life. It would be a time after our son got to raise his children and dote on his grandchildren. It would be a time after he watched all of them grow up. It would be a time long after he had told them colorful stories of his many adventures masked as figments of his fantastic imagination. It would also be most especially a time long after he had served as a source of light and happiness for those little ones.

And a time long after Dick had left his lasting legacy so that the next generation would keep his flame burning brightly in their hearts.

"Merry Christmas, Bruce! Merry Christmas, Alfie! I soooo love Christmas!" cried out Dick with such love and enthusiasm.

Mary and I then heard our son's giggles ring throughout the mansion as he opened another present, then having those giggles blend with the ensuing laughter coming from Alfred and Bruce after Dick tackled Bruce.

Bruce hugged Dick with such tight affection. How I envied this man who I so grossly misjudged in the beginning. I do hope that God would forgive me for casting judgment far too quickly upon the one who claimed my son as his own. He was a good man, and he loved my son...promising the boy the love and security that he thought and knew he had lost since the day that his parents were gunned down.

It warmed my heart and gave me peace knowing that my son—the constant gift and blessing that he had always been for Mary and me—would continue to be that blessing for those who live under Wayne Manor and the Batcave. I know that my boy would be that star...that constant light that would shine upon the darkest corner of one's heart and soul, bringing warmth into the loneliest of hearts.

Mary, my wife and the love of my life...my existence, gave me a knowing smile which told me, _"God will always be good to our son, John. Remember I told you that? There's nothing to worry about."_

I smiled back, holding Mary's hand, bringing it close to my lips, and kissing it. It was my way of telling her, _"Yes, Love... I remember..."_

I was reassured now that our boy, our Dickie, would not be alone after what happened…that he would be loved. I see now that whatever happened to us or whatever life's challenges would hurl at him, those would not taint or kill that inner light within him.

My son was strong, and seeing him in all his youthful innocence and exuberance this very moment—tonight of all nights—gave Mary and me peace.

Before my wife and I slowly disappeared and merged with the Light, we heard Dick whisper with a smile escaping from his lips, "I love you, Mom...Dad... I miss both of you. I'll see you tomorrow morning for Christmas and tell you more stories, all right?"

Those words brought a smile to our faces. I meant what I said about the stories. Our boy had a gift with words. He talked to God through his prayers, just as he would tell us about how his day had gone by. Tomorrow, Christmas Day, he would come and visit the grave and talk to us just as he did when we were still alive.

Mary and I know that for many years to come, Dick's year-round gift to these two men he now called his fathers would be childhood, laughter, and hope.

To the man named Alfred Pennyworth, it would be a chance to relive those carefree childhood days once more. It would also ease his heart knowing that the boy named Bruce Wayne…the one that he raised and became the symbol of hope for Gotham would now have his humanity back. Laughter and light-hearted moments long-lost would finally fill the manor once more.

To the man named Bruce Wayne...the one also called Batman, it would be a chance to turn back the clock and reclaim the childhood and laughter that he lost long ago. Before he became who he now was, he too was a child who forced himself to grow up and live with the pain. He embraced this painful mission, hid behind a cowl, and fought Gotham's criminals as a form of thanksgiving for being saved. he did so because he was spared, just as Dick had been spared.

Bruce would now have those many lost childhood moments and laughter to reclaim with Dick Grayson – crucial member of The Flying Graysons and son of Mary and John Grayson, and now _his_ partner and son.

My family was that light of hope for me. A gift from above…. A gift and blessing that kept on giving…. As my wife and I move on to the next world, my son would carry on that gift, blessing, and legacy.

And now, on Christmas Eve, I—John Grayson—now pass on that light and living gift fully to Bruce Wayne. Someday, I hope that Bruce Wayne would fully find that Dick's passions and good-intentioned heart would serve as a constant reminder for him that he was never alone to begin with. My family, especially when my son arrived in this world, taught me what it takes to be a man. I know that the same miracle would happen inside the man who my son now embraced as his father and mentor.

For you are Dick Grayson's father now, Bruce Wayne…Batman…just as I was before and would always be as well. I have made peace with everything. I pray to Divine Providence that my son…_your_ son…would show you the way towards inner peace.

**End**

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><p><em><strong>Disclaimer<strong>_

_Nightwing, Robin, Red Robin, and the Batman franchise (characters and all) are the property of DC and their respective creators and legal owners. This fanfic is the property of PJ Zatken. _


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